Spars and Scars
by Literary Melody
Summary: This is a one-shot dedicated to Woman of Letters for being the 500th reviewer on my other story The Beautifully Dark Sister. This one acts as a deleted scene to BDS, with Arathell and Aragorn traversing the plains of Rohan together. Super fun to write!


**Hello there, everyone! This is a one-shot dedicated to** _Woman of Letters_ **for being my 500th reviewer on my other story,** **The Beautifully Dark Sister.** **This one-shot will be hard to understand if you don't already know BDS, so please check that out!**

 **This is a scene of Aragorn and Arathell during their escapades through Rohan. I hope you like it, my friend! I should also mention, there is a note at the bottom that is quite pertinent to all who read BDS. I made a mistake which unfortunately cannot be fixed at this point, but I would like to inform you all of it all the same. Oh well. But please leave a review for this one! I had a bunch of fun writing it!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing affiliated with Tolkien or Jackson, nor the prompt for this one-shot. I only own Arathell.**

* * *

Amidst rolling plains, the sound of iron clashing against iron bloomed in the dry air, grunts and groans decorating the metallic clangs. Her teeth were grinding hard against one another, the sound muffled under the pulsing thrum of her blood racing through her body.

He let out an attacking yelp, crowding her crouched form with memorized precision, Arathell's sword barely making the block in time. She matched his yelp with a war cry of her own, ducking under another blow before making a wide arc to kick him in the ribs. He grunted at the impact and stumbled sideways, but maintained his balance to counter her next attack. Her brown eyes were on fire as they fought, footsteps light and purposeful.

Arathell lunged forward, sword straight and true at her target, but the force behind her attack was too strong. Her whole body followed behind the blow, unable to stop while he only sidestepped her attack. Her sword arm was wrapped in his arm in an instant and his right hand dropped onto her sword hand, knocking it free and disorienting her with pain. Arathell's arm shook and he tightened his hold, curling her arm forward so quickly she nearly hit herself in the face. His leg swiped hers from behind, forcing her to fall backward. Her arm slipped from his grasp in a calculated movement, and by the time her back snapped against the dirty ground, his sword was at her throat and her breathing too heavy and labored to recover.

A cloud of dust had erupted from her landing, but the look of victory was written ever-so-clearly on his bearded face. "Did I just win?" he asked. Even with his smugness, Arathell could at least say that she had worked him hard, and he was sweating and panting just as vigorously as her. Nevertheless, she groaned underneath him, already bracing for the boasting that was sure to come her way.

"One of us was bound to win sooner or later – we've sparred enough," she ground out. She unfortunately couldn't help the fact that her pride was stung from not being the first victor out of their duels.

"Sixty-seven duels, and I emerge as the first winner," he remarked, looking proud as ever, his grey eyes sparkling.

She sneered at him and gave him a fierce push off of herself. He laughed at her but let her push him away, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "This is why I should be the first victor," she pouted. "All you will do is boast about this until the end of our days."

Aragorn laughed again and sheathed his sword before reclining. "I highly doubt that your behavior would be any different should you have been the first to win. Besides, I do not boast, nor will I ever boast. I will only courteously remind you of my victory every once in a while."

Arathell glared at her friend before scoffing. "Likely your definition of 'every once in a while' translates more toward 'once daily.'"

"Remember when I won the first duel between the two of us?" he replied, earning a harsh slap on the leg and emitting another laugh. "Alright! You can stop pouting whenever you wish now, Arathell. I'm quite sure that you'll win eventually. Then again, now that I know how to defeat you –"

"Please, finish your sentence," she growled.

"Why shouldn't I?" he teased. "I did just win, after all; what could you do to me?"

"I'll make you take watch the entire evening," she retorted.

"How dreadful," he said dully. "I already do that for the most part anyway. You and your sleeping habits…"

"I want the sun to wake me up, not to wake up with it!" she snapped. "It isn't unreasonable!"

"It isn't, but not only do I watch the sun come up, but I get to watch it go down as well."

"Life must be truly unbearable for you."

"Well, I just won the first duel, so I don't suppose it is all bad," he remarked.

Arathell groaned again, throwing her arm over her eyes. "Well I know it is unbearable for me at least. Living with you will be awful now."

"I'm sure the novelty of it will wear off soon."

"I should eat your dinner."

"You're already stealing my sleep!"

"Clearly, that is not punishment enough!"

"Perhaps you just can't lose gracefully."

"I can too! You're just being boastful about it!"

"I won't boast if you don't pout."

"I won't pout if you don't boast," she snapped back.

"You're being ridiculous."

"I'm not the only one."

They fell into a deep silence, Arathell determined to outlast him.

Dinner was entirely neglected that night, both too stubborn and prideful to think of suggesting hunting. There was some rabbit left from the night before, but it was in her pack, and she was not about to share. Arathell knew she was pouting, but her pride truly did sting from his first victory. She was the older one – she should have won first.

Even though she was only barely fatigued from their duel, she knew that sleep would be a blessing tonight. And even though Aragorn was just as easily giving her the silent treatment, she knew that she was more than safe with her friend around. Out of all of her acquaintances, Aragorn and she shared the deepest of friendships. The fact that he won the first duel hurt, but it was something that she knew they would get over. It was childish, the way they were both acting at the moment, but it was still comical to each of them in a way.

And even though he complained about her sleeping habits, their share of the load had always been relatively equal. He always said he liked watching the sunset and sunrise, and she had loved staring up into the pitch black inkiness of the sky, lined with speckles of bright stars. He was her opposite, but he was her greatest friend, and she suspected that he valued her in a similar way.

Tonight, she watched the sunset though before sleep took her completely. Aragorn was already sitting on a rock, smoking his pipe, watchful tendencies overtaking his calm exterior.

A gentle pressure against the expanse of her skin was what woke her up that next morning. Her response was immediate, and a yelp greeted her ears when her brown eyes snapped open. Aragorn was beside her, clutching his hand to his chest while blood slowly seeped from the back of his hand.

"What happened?" she demanded, sitting up and already moving for her pack.

"You're the one carrying the knife, not me!" he retorted. Arathell looked down, and true enough, her knife was still in her hand, the blade decorated with a red stripe.

Her mouth fell open and she looked back at him. "I did that?" The gasp tore from her throat at the thought of her actions. "I… Aragorn, I'm so sorry! I didn't know!"

He shook his head in dismissal, but the way his teeth were ground together alerted her that he was actually in considerable pain. Her search for bandages doubled and she returned to her pack. "It's a warrior's reflex, Arathell. I should have known better. The fault is mine."

Arathell shook her head back at him, growling curses at herself for her behavior. Bandages withdrawn, she turned to him, scooping up her water canteen along the way. They waited in silence for his bleeding to at least slow in its torrential flow. The water seemed to soothe the wound a little, and she was finally able to wrap it carefully. "I really am sorry," she murmured, staring at the blood spot that grew ever-so-slightly on the bandage.

He waved his other hand. "This isn't the worst thing you've done to me, Arathell. You've broken bones before – a cut doesn't mean anything."

"I did that unknowingly though," she retorted. He fell silent. "It is curious how I reached the back of your hand though. That is quite the angle for my arm to reach."

"It was done and over with before I saw your technique," he teased, the mood feeling instantly lighter, and she smiled.

"Perhaps with such an injury, I may tie our score again," she remarked. "Maybe I can even overtake you."

Aragorn gave her a smirk.

* * *

 **There it is! I hope that you liked it, Woman of Letters! I know I loved this piece! I actually had started a different one before this, but I erased it and tried again, and this is what I came up with! It fits quite nicely into the BDS universe, and I love it so much, I may actually reference it again in BDS! In all actuality, you can look at all of the Arathell one-shots as deleted scenes from BDS, which is great!**

 **Alright onto my note: In BDS, I made mention of Arathell and Aragorn riding together in Rohan to assist King Thengel of Rohan. With the timeline that I have created, Arathell and Aragorn's friendship however (including their sparring sessions) didn't begin until four years after Thengel died, according to the Appendices. So the way that I wrote it is impossible in relation to the Appendices. But, it has been posted and too much has been written and posted for me to rework it to make everything fit. I sincerely apologize for this. I endeavor to create Arathell's universe in a way that meshes almost entirely with the timeline that Tolkien created, and I screwed up on this count.**

 **SO. The easiest thing that I can do/say is have you guys imagine that their friendship was created BEFORE Thengel died, so that they would have the opportunity to have adventures like this one above together in Rohan. Thengel dies in 2980, and I wrote that the friendship begins in 2984. So just imagine that maybe the friendship actually begins in… let's say… 2964, a whole twenty years earlier. Theoretically, I could go back and rework the posting, but that would mean rearranging the order of chapters already posted, and I don't quite know if I want to fiddle with that. All I ask is that you all forgive me for my timeline issues and let me continue on with my fun anyway. Haha**

 **Anyway! Thanks for reading, and please leave a review with your thoughts!**

 **Love you all lots!**

 **LM**


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